


Limbo

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, BAMF Gabriel, Deathfic (kinda), Hurt/Comfort, Limbo AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 11:25:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/722746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Winchester dies and finds himself in Limbo with the ability to do three things: i) send any soul alive or dead to Heaven or Hell, b) see the last living moments or best memory of any soul and 3) summon any soul to him. The only problem is, he doesn't remember how he died, and his archangel isn't here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Limbo

**Author's Note:**

> Don't judge me okay this is a fucking weird concept I know, I dreamt it up. Written for Kili my dwarfbro who wanted me to write this!

Sam wasn’t a novice when it came to dying. He’d done it an innumerable number of times before – Cold Oak, shot by hunters, stabbed by an angel, thrown into the Pit… it was probably a bad thing to admit that you’re used to dying. But he was. Most of the time he didn’t remember anything about it, like he’d blacked out and when he came to, he was covered in blood or his body was sticking out at weird angles. The only time he truly remembered death was when they went on their hide-and-seek mission through Heaven to find Joshua, but he’d never remembered this.

A small, circular grey room. He looked up, and the walls went so far high he couldn’t see the top, and there was an unnatural light shining in from the top. He looked down, and there was a hole at the edge of the room that went so far down it descended into blackness. He could figure out what this was, his Stanford brain wasn’t for nothing. He was in Limbo. A pretty strange Limbo, he guessed, seeing as there weren’t any other people and the room was strangely small. He’d always imagined Limbo – if there was one – as a weird, kind of whitish grey plane without an end, occasionally running into another lost soul.

He didn’t remember how he’d gotten there, but it was obvious that he was dead. Again. There were no signs of injury on him, and he wasn’t in a particularly interesting costume either – just layers and plaid. He thought back to the last thing he remembered: his date with Gabriel. It was interesting to say the least, he thought with a grin. They had been at some restaurant somewhere – not a fancy one, but not one of those ones that people took their kids to and you had to spend the entire night trying to hear yourself over the screams and giggles of children running around. They’d just finished their main course (and for some reason Gabe managed to get pancakes at eight p.m.), and Sam was shuffling his chair closer to the table, leaning forward slightly and Gabriel had taken the opportunity to lean over the table and kiss him. It was slightly awkward and not at all sexy, but he couldn’t help but smile and cup Gabriel’s cheek in his hand. 

They pulled back and looked around them to cheering and clapping from the other patrons. Sam had blushed but Gabriel had winked at them all and mimed flicking his hair over his shoulder like the idiot he was. Then some staunch redneck looking dude had crossed the restaurant and began yelling at them, quoting misquoted scripture at them and yelling how homosexuality was _wrong and vile and disgusting_ and Sam had been trying not to laugh because he was saying all of this to an _archangel of the Lord_. Gabriel had stood up, a sweet smile on his face, short and unassuming, and then proceeded to completely fuck the guy up, smiling all the while, and then helped the manager drag the guy outside and down the steps. 

They’d gotten dessert for free. 

They’d left the restaurant happily, hand in hand with a free bottle of champagne from the manager as an apology for the rude customer, and Sam couldn’t get the idiotic smile off his face. The last thing he remembered was Gabriel’s twinkling eyes – and then he woke up here. In Limbo. What the hell could’ve gotten him when Gabriel was around that the archangel couldn’t heal?

Sam was pondering this with a heavy frown on his face when he turned around and saw the words on the wall behind him, and raised an eyebrow. They seemed to be instructions in Enochian, but even as he watched the words slowly shimmered and turned themselves into English – handy. There were three instructions on the wall that read as follows.

_1\. You have the ability to send one soul to either Heaven (Valhalla/Paradise/Moksha/Nirvana) or Hell (Hifhel/Tartarus/Samsara/Underworld). Simply write the soul’s full name on the paper and throw it up or down. The soul can be deceased already or still on Earth. (All creatures will bypass this rule and go straight to Purgatory)._

_2\. You have the ability to see the last moments of any soul, or if the soul is still alive, you can see their best or worst memory to date._

_3\. If you so wish, you have the ability to summon any one soul to you – alive or dead – to say any final words and/or to find consolation.  
Postscript: If this is not the first time you have died, you may have already used up all three of these. You will not remember any of this, so if you have used them, the above instructions will not work. _

Sam read these instructions and let out a chuckle at the final one – somehow it looked slightly more recently added than the others and could only assume that it was due to recent events. He sighed and wondered if he’d already used up his three instructions and hoped that he hadn’t, because he’d really like to know how he’d died. He turned back around and saw that there was now a small ledge sticking out of the wall, with three things on it – a piece of paper, a fancy-looking quill, and a piece of glass roughly the size of his hand. He approached the paper and took the quill, and without a second thought wrote a name on the paper. _Joanna Beth Harvelle_. He held the paper in his hand, and feeling a little silly, threw it upwards. An invisible current took the paper and carried it upwards towards the light, ensuring that wherever Jo was, she’d be in Heaven. Sam smiled and turned to the piece of glass. This was obviously the medium through which he’d be able to see the last moments or memory of a soul, and wondered what he’d like to see. Feeling stupidly nostalgic, he said the first name that come to his mind.

“Dean Winchester.”

Immediately the glass lit up like a television screen and he could almost feel himself pulled into the moment like he was really there – Dean at the wheel of the Impala, the air warm and the windows down, _Ramble On_ playing quieter than Dean would usually have the music. Sitting shotgun was Cas, leaning back against the leather with a small, wistful smile on his face that Sam had never seen. As the camera panned backward, he saw that Dean and Cas’ fingers were entwined. In the back seat he was surprised to see that himself and Gabriel were there – Gabriel practically lying with his head in Sam’s lap, the two of them talking quietly as Gabe consumed a larger-than-possible packet of Skittles, occasionally feeding Sam the green ones (which were his favourite). Sam remembered this day. 

It was a completely normal day, in between a successful hunt and one of the best pie places in the country (according to Dean). Man, if Sam thought that he was being sentimental…

He enjoyed the memory for a while longer, and as the glass returned to its normal state, he wondered vaguely how Dean was… he was still alive, but did he know Sam was dead? What about Cas and Gabriel? That brought him to his final task…

“I summon the archangel Gabriel, if he’d be so kind,” Sam said with a small smile. Immediately something flashed brightly at the top of the room, and within seconds he had an archangel in his arms, golden feathers filling up the room and sticking every which way. He clutched Gabriel in his arms as said archangel nuzzled his face into Sam’s neck, and he could’ve sworn he felt warm tears dripping on his shoulder. 

“Gabe…” he whispered, and the archangel pulled back with a blinding grin on his face.

“Dammit Sammy it took you long enough,” Gabriel replied, resting his forehead against Sam’s as he sighed, his legs tightening around Sam’s waist. Sam gave him a small smile and pressed a gentle kiss to Gabriel’s lips.

“I… I don’t even know what happened,” Sam said quietly. “Last thing I remember was you and I walking back from the restaurant… then I came here.” Gabriel gently untangled his sloth-like limbs from around Sam and lowered himself to the ground with a little gust of wind.

“It… was really fucking stupid of me. We turned down an alleyway and some demons had been waiting, Lucifer loyalists, apparently, the last speck of ‘em. Banished me away and by the time I got back you were dead and too far away for me to bring back, already hanging about here, unconscious. I was _really_ hoping that you were going to summon me, Sam,” Gabriel said with a sad smile. 

“At least tell me that you gave those demons what was coming to them?” Sam asked, and there was that famous devilish grin that often graced the archangel’s face. 

“Hell would’ve been like a stubbed toe,” Gabriel replied. Sam rolled his eyes and leant down to kiss Gabriel, and felt a strange sensation in his stomach, like a type of tugging, almost.

“Gabe… I feel really weird,” Sam noted, pulling away from the archangel.

“Floaty weird or tugging weird?” Gabriel asked sharply.

“Tugging weird,” Sam said, and Gabriel swore loudly in English, Enochian and some Latin that Sam managed to half-understand and would’ve blushed if he’d had a blood supply.

“What? What is it?” Sam asked, the sensation only getting stronger.

“You know how everyone’s got the ability to send one soul, alive or dead, to Heaven or Hell? It seems like some fucker’s used theirs to fulfill a personal vendetta against you Sammy, because you’re Hell-bound, right now, and I can’t do a single fucking thing to stop it!” Gabriel swore, his feathers separating and wings puffing up in anger. Sam’s eyes widened as he looked at Gabriel.

“I- what? Who? Why?” Sam stuttered, feeling as though he was standing in the path of a swiftly flowing river, the strong current attempting to sweep him off his feet.

“I don’t know! And I can’t help because I already used mine when Luci offed me in Elysian Fields and believe it or not, I didn’t secure your soul because I figured that nobody’d be sending you down! Fuck!” Gabriel swore, and Sam felt himself slide back a few inches.

“Gabe, I’m not gonna be able to hang around much longer,” Sam gasped out, fighting desperately at the sensation of his soul being tugged towards Hell. God, he’d already spent so many years down there, so much pain and agony that he didn’t want to spend another second down there…

Gabriel was suddenly in his face with a determined expression and glowing golden eyes. “I will lay seige to Hell for the rest of eternity to get you back, Sam,” he vowed, briefly pressing his lips to Sam’s before the hunter was swept off his feet and felt himself falling down the dark hole, further and further until he could see the Hellfire at the bottom.

In Limbo, Gabriel could feel the blood draining away from his face, the scene replaying itself over and over in his mind, Sam being dragged away by invisible forces and cursed his Father and everything he stood for in letting this happen. A stray movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he snapped his hand out to grab a piece of paper that had been floating gently. The name Sam Winchester glared out at him in angry, capital letters. As Gabriel held the piece of parchment in his hand, he felt the residual energy of the soul who had held it, and swore violently as he found it’s name.  
“Gordon Walker,” he hissed. The creature was in Purgatory – a vampire, he sensed – and he wanted nothing more than to break down the barriers between the worlds and rampage through the forests in a column of blazing glory so he could rip apart the vampire’s soul piece by excruciating piece… but first.

The only remaining archangel of Heaven summoned his sword and the battle regalia that he hadn’t laid eyes on in millennia; he raised the sword up and flames overtook the blade, crackling with holy fire. He would kill Gordon Walker, but first, he had to save Sam Winchester from the bowels of Hell.

Gabriel took one look at the hole, and without a second thought, dove in, incandescent and seriously pissed-off.

**Author's Note:**

> Also fyi I'm not too sure on what Heaven/Hell are in some cultures so I kinda just vaguely Googled it so if I'm wrong, sorry, and I don't mean any disrespect!!


End file.
